Ready, Aim, Fire! by Imagine Dragons
by CrystallineMoonlight
Summary: War is occurring, and as Harry fights and defeats Voldemort, he repeats a mantra: READY, AIM, FIRE! He fights for the Weasley family, for his parents. He fights for those who are dead and alive. He fights for strangers and friends. He fights for everyone. It's simply my first songfic, and basically it's just an AU of the Battle of Hogwarts. Try it.


**Disclaimer: ****I do not own Harry Potter, nor will I ever. I do not own Imagine Dragons, nor will I ever. I swear on it.**

**I suggest listening to the song. Pretty cool effect, it is. Oh, and please review, tell me if you love it or hate it. And it took me forever to write this, and this is my first songfic. Tell me if you're impressed or you like it, I would like to know. **

Harry James Potter decked out in a black leather jacket plain white shirt, jeans and sneakers had his back against the wall as his attackers charged. His emerald eyes widened when a clear, translucent white spell almost hit him. He ducked that curse and jumped when a bright red hex was thrown his way. He never thought he could lose his friends and family, but he did. Grief, guilt and sadness tried to overtake, but he would not and could not let it. He was fighting for his life, damn it, and he couldn't concentrate when his friends' faces were flashing. His wand was in the ready, and he aimed at a near Death Eater and shouted, _"Canite!" _A diamond blue light soared and cut through the heavy air like a knife slicing butter and hit a Death Eater in the chest, throwing him up in the air, slamming him, then slamming him up against the nearest wall, which was pretty far.

Raven-black, messy hair was windswept as Harry ran for his life, loving the way he felt so free. The day was coming to an end and Hogwarts was already wrecked. Rubble was scattered, debris everywhere and blood, oh, the blood was always in sight. Bodies were strewn across the stone, concrete floor like rag dolls. Harry almost threw up after seeing Cho Chang's body, her beautiful face in agony, black, silky hair fanned out and clothes torn and ripped while red liquid, _blood_, now decorated her figure. Harry forced himself not to look at anymore corpses after that. He closed his eyes and all the glory faded from him and the whole school, battlefield and land. The sun began to descend, and the crescent moon peaked from the horizon. Death Eaters were looking for him as he hid behind some rough, big boulders. Harry took a deep breath and exhaled. He counted to three. One. Two. THREE! He jumped and had his wand at the ready once more and aimed. He fired a spell. Ready, aim, FIRE! He hit two Death Eaters with his tirade of spells, and repeated the mantra: READY AIM FIRE! His mantra was broken as a chunk of the Great Hall's third wall, the one near the Slytherins, had crashed into him. He cried out in pain.

As Harry blasted off the rocks, cement and bricks, he stood up furiously and the pain started stirring. He knew there was resistance somewhere, as Voldemort announced his Death Eaters that were in low ranks were raiding numerous villages, towns and cities, muggle or magic just to spread fear. But he knew that by the lack of commentary, the resistance was building, bubbling up and fighting out there. He knew, miles, kilometers, even a car distance ahead, aurors, policemen and citizens alike were fighting to regain peace. That brought a smile to Harry's face, and he ferociously healed his wounds to fight again.

The battle was like a potion stirred heavily, simmering and shaking, filled with mysteries and problems, difficulties and secrets. Pure red, covered in blood: it should symbolize the battle. As Harry thought that, he shivered and started casting spells, hexes, jinxes and curses at the Death Eaters. White Death Eater masks cracked and fell, hitting stones, being stepped on or being summoned. Cloaks torn and some destroyed beyond repair billowed behind the warriors' backs while the Death Eaters' cloaks flapped with the wind. The battle might end in a few minutes or not, but Harry was sure as hell he would do anything to stop the monstrosity happening now. His own muggle clothes were torn, and Harry realized he was the only one wearing muggle clothes. Reminded him of Arthur Weasley, face twisted in grim determination, blood all over from a dark curse, mouth slightly open and eyes widened... Harry shook his head as tears threatened to fall.

Harry knew every single face in Hogwarts, even the first years. He was sociable, so he was acquaintances with most, as his fame helped him a lot making them. So, when spells were fired, he traced them and was surprised to see different people he guessed were from the village. He flashed a real smile in the direction of teenagers fighting alongside with what Harry guessed were there friends, family, sibling and cousins. They were all on a mission, a quest. And that mission or quest was to defeat Voldemort, once and for all. But, they could all walk away from that mission or quest. He however, had to stay. Harry desperately wanted the others to stay safe, but then it was going to be him versus Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters, which was both growing more or less as casualties were ascending but reinforcements from the team of low-rank Death Eaters to start apparating in. He had a vision that he was going to die and lose, but he quickly changed the vision. If he envisioning the right thing was worth it, he would do it. And, Harry knew, just by looking at the crimson-eyed Dark Lord named Tom Marvalo Riddle, dubbed Lord Voldemort, he was never welcome here.

They all knew that they had to stay. Because if one leaves, the Death Eater army would grow, and more would follow the example of the person who left, in fear of sacrificing their own lives, and Harry couldn't let that happen. Of course, he wanted it to happen, so more lives will be saved, but he knew that it wouldn't work and would mean the ultimate destruction of Hogwarts and the entire Wizarding World. But Harry would never fall under the Dark Lord's spell and believe in that pureblood supremacy crap. Harry fought under the Dark Lord's gaze. READY. AIM. FIRE!

He narrowly dodged it and cast a few of his own spells. Dark curses and light hexes were generated from the wooden stick and Harry got caught by –thank Merlin- only a few. Although, they were agonizing, he would make it. The Dark Side will fall, he just knew it! And they would prevail. He cried out as pain erupted from his ribs, arms, legs and chest: That was where he was hit. He gritted his teeth and shouted in his head: 'READY, AIM, FIRE!'

_"EXPELLIARMUS!"_

He closed his eyes, energy being drained by a dark curse once more. The spell hit Voldemort, but since he had a tight grip on his wand, he was banished and he crashed into a nice, rough, hard rubble pile. He snarled and bellowed a spell.

_"Mundus Tenebrescere!" _he shouted. A ray of obsidian black light almost collided with Harry's forehead, but he raised his shield. When in contact, the shield literally broke into a million pieces and skittered away before disappearing.

_"FERRUM!" _Harry yelled.

It was like he was encased in a suffocating tube as he saw that curse land in Voldemort's green shield, dissolving in a pile of nothingness. He was shaking and trembling. This was it, the final battle. It came to him that he wasn't prepared to fight and win. But he was prepared to die. After all, if he died, hopefully he'll bring Voldemort down too and prevent any more deaths, both from him and from Voldemort. Harry gulped. Blood was everywhere, and he suddenly realized this: he was going to fight and win for the living _and _the dead. He was going to end this, whether Ron and Hermione will marry and come to his funeral or Harry will live long and prosper. He was in the sight of Voldemort's wand, and so was Voldemort in the sight of his wand.

More strangers defeated the Death Eaters, and Harry could just make out that his side was winning. He jumped as a few curses were sent to his feet, and Harry recognized most. The tripping jinx, a forbidden dark curse, although not an unforgivable act and a bone-crushing hex. The other one was unknown. That did not calm Harry in the slightest. He repeated his make-shift mantra or battlecry, as he liked to call it, and he eventually said it out loud. _Ready, Aim, Fire! _He was hoping Voldemort would fall for the feint. He fired a red, harmless hex in Voldemort's shoulder, and Voldemort dodged it. Harry smirked and quickly cast a freezing hex that will last for five minutes. Voldemort's crimson eyes widened when the teal colored spell was sent his way. He had frozen in mid dodge, glaring at the raven-haired teen. Harry's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he realized Voldemort, Tom Marvalo Riddle, the Dark Lord, was under his control.

Boldy, Harry said, _"Accio Gryffindor Sword!" _

A silver sword was ripped out of Neville Longbottom's hands and into Harry's waiting arms. He glared at Voldemort and whispered in Parsel Tongue, _"Say goodbye, Riddle." _He approached Riddle and stabbed Voldemort in the chest.

Raw power escaped Voldemort's body, threatening to push Harry back. Different spells that Tom Riddle created by Voldemort himself was shot out of Voldemort's aura, from his chest. A pitch black curse hit Harry, and agonizing pain squeezed threw him back, but held long, cutting deeper into the enemy's chest. When, he decided it wasn't enough, Harry pulled out the sword, gasping at the sight of the black blood. Harry straightened, and he struck Tom Riddle in his pale, white neck. Black blood oozed out, and more tirades of spells came. A blue one hit him. A yellow, green, red, wait, no, golden, no wait, silver curses hit him, and he felt pain bubble in. It was worse than the cruciatus, much worse. Ten times more powerful, Harry thought.

Finally, Riddle's body went limp.

Harry trained his wand on Voldemort's forehead. He wasn't dead, just unconscious, and Harry knew it. The final stand was ending, and all he needed was to kill this one man. He took a deep breath and steeled himself on what he was going to do. His wand was on the ready. He had it aimed. He repeated his mantra, but this time, he said it out loud on purpose. "READY, AIM FIRE!" A sickly purple spell hit Voldemort, and the Sectumsempra Curse did its work. Blood oozed out, and Voldemort's heartbeat died away as Harry tried to listen to it. He then sank to the floor, panting heavily. Everyone who had somehow formed a circle leaned in. Harry collected energy, then shouted out two words that changed the whole world.

"RIDDLE'S DEAD!" he yelled.

Cheering erupted, and they had a right to cheer, and so did Harry, since darkness has fallen. Then, he repeated, "Ready, Aim, Fire!" Fireworks blasted out of Harry's wand, and Harry ignored the pain he was in, and was happy to see golden, silver, red, green, yellow, blue, white and pink fireworks erupt. When the pain was unbearable, he welcomed the darkness that was threatening to overwhelm him.


End file.
